


Analytic

by Quixotism



Category: Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Told in Rei's point of view, flowery language, introspect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:57:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1918995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quixotism/pseuds/Quixotism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Crystal Tokyo had formed in all its pristine glory, she went up to her friend and said, “If I asked, would you love me?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Analytic

When she walked down the street, she would count the number of tiles her foot used to cover. Knowing this, she would realize how small and insignificant her feet seemed to be; tiny and frail. Yet, she counted the tiles and saw the colours and shapes they came in. Her mind would always look down and never in front, but people parted for her as they always had for her. She had the air of royalty and had the grace of a ballerina. Her steps were always light, just barely scraping the edges of the pathway.

But a laugh and a name called out to her and when she looked up, her friend was there. Smiling like she always had and calling her. Her friend waved her hand and stood there, always patiently waiting. And when she approached her, her friend would take her by the hand and lead her to their destination. It didn’t matter what royalty she was or whether she disliked being touched, her friend would always hold her by the hand and lead her forwards.

She found herself looking at the tiles less and less when her friend was around.

When she went for a swim in the pool, she would move her hands underwater and watch in rapture how the ripples would spread to the furthest most corners of the pool, how nothing remained untouched. She would do this continuously as the ripples brushed against her like a ticklish manner. Like a child, she thought, their hands moving softly and surely. The ripples were a sign of power, how nothing can remain untouched, how everything can be tainted. Taint filled every corner of this world, of her life. And how she longed to escape its oppressive power, she spent her life looking the other way.

But her friend jumped into the pool and waves would spill everywhere and there would be laughter, just the right tone of laughter. Never too low and sultry and never too high-pitched and squeaky. Her laughter would resonate more strongly than her ripples ever had and their friends would join in and laugh as well. And she would smile reluctantly in the face of their happiness and retreat into her solitary pain. But her friend would swim out to her and pull her deeper into the pool and she would laugh at her expression and say something nonsensical just to make her smile. And she would always hold her hand, as if afraid to let her back into that shell of pain she had built around herself.

When she stood in the backyard, sweeping the tawny autumn leaves into a small corner, she would stare at the sky. The autumn evenings were cold, but she ignored it. But she loved the colours of the sky, the way they swirled like a painter’s canvas and how they would compliment the beauty of the sun and shadow the trees. God had never made anything more beautiful, she would think to herself, than the sky and its stars. But the stars would come out later and now she could see their tell-tale glitter on the fringes of the sky.

And then, her friend came. And then, she would marvel at the autumn beauty that highlighted her friend. How her tresses would never be the strong burnt gold of autumn, but instead the light haloed colour of amber and sunshine. Light sunshine that breaks the dark of dawn. Her eyes would never be the deep dark colours of the evening; instead they were bright of cornflower and more beautiful and lively than any colour she had seen in her life.

Her colours were dark, always dark, always darker in her many moods and emotions. But her friend was a breath of summer air and she did love summer as well.

When Crystal Tokyo had formed in all its pristine glory, she went up to her friend and said, “If I asked, would you love me?”

And she closed her eyes, unable to look and see that cornflower blue darken in horror, unable to watch the tresses flutter in shock. She held out her palms in front of her, trembling and shaking. Wondering whether it had been better living in the dark than to confront the sun. She couldn’t open her eyes and yet she wondered whether she would see her friend, her love again. And for that last glimpse, she wondered whether she could open her eyes once more.

But someone held her palms and clenched it softly. It was a gentle touch. It felt like the wind was running through her finger and past her hands. She could feel the perspiration build in her palms. She wondered whether she could open her eyes now.

“Rei, you never needed to ask,” Her love’s voice flitted into her ear and she could feel the crooked happy smile adorning her lips and felt her hands tighten over her own. And Rei, who lived in the darkness for so long, did the one sensible thing she had ever done in her life.

She opened her eyes.


End file.
